Seven Deadly Sins
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: Self explanatory really, right? rating may change through out the series.
1. Chapter 1

7 Deadly Sins

The seven deadly sins, also known as the capital vices or cardinal sins, are a classification of vices that were originally used in early Christian teachings to educate and instruct followers concerning fallen man's tendency to sin.

The identification and definition of the seven deadly sins over their history has been a fluid process and the idea of what each of the seven actually encompasses has evolved over time. This process has been aided by the fact that they are not referred to in either a cohesive or codified manner in the Bible itself, and as a result other literary and ecclesiastical works referring to the seven deadly sins were instead consulted as sources from which definitions might be drawn.

Have had this in my mind for a while but wanted to make sure that I could do it justice. I am not going to rush in a do Lust first, as much as I want to, because I want to make that one special. So, on with the show. First up – Greed.

Hope you all enjoy.

V!  
xox


	2. Avaritia

_For Aly, even though "write me something and maybe I'll be motivated to skip reports and do more Jibbs" could be construed as bribery! _

* * *

Avaritia – Greed.

Greed is the selfish desire for or pursuit of money, wealth, power, food, or other possessions, especially when this denies the same goods to others. It is generally considered a vice, and is one of the seven deadly sins in Catholicism.

Greed denotes desire to acquire wealth or possessions beyond the needs of the individual, especially when this accumulation of possession denies others legitimate needs or access to those or other resources. Simple want is not considered greed. Greed is the extreme form of this desire, especially where one desires things simply for the sake of owning them.

I am greedy, no matter how much of her I have, I want more, I _need_ more. I had finally broken down her defenses and she was yet again sharing my bed, she was yet again mine, but somehow it wasn't quite enough. Somehow, I needed to have more, and I was going to enjoy finding out how I could have more.

It had taken a while to realize that she was mine and that no one was ever allowed to touch her again. At first there were just pangs of jealousy whenever anyone looked inappropriately at her, but after a while the jealously turned into rage, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself from marching to her side and hauling her away from which ever man she had been talking to.

"Jethro…What the hell are you doing?" She hissed, her anger invading my thoughts as she struggled against the death grip I had on her arm. I was so angry, I couldn't speak, she wrenched her arm out of my grasp and glared at me.

"That was the Secretary of Defense, Jethro."

"He was…touching you." I choked out the words, devastated that I was being so pathetic. She stifled a laugh and pushed me against the wall. Her mouth hovered over mine.

"No one touches me like you." She whispered against my mouth. I reaffirmed my grip on her arms and pulled her close, covering my mouth with hers, the need to possess her filling my veins. Her lips parted under mine and a moan escaped her lips. How could I be blamed for wanting her all the time when she is so reception to me? When her moaning and slight moving of her hips drives me crazy and blinds me with greed? She pulled away and cocked her head at me.

"What bought this on?" She asked, squeezing my hand slightly. I swallowed, not wanting to admit that greed that was currently pulsing around my body, clouding my vision, I had to have more, I couldn't let anyone else have her.

"You're mine." I managed to choke out, resisting the urge to slap myself on the head for that ridiculous remark.

"That I am Jethro." She replied, "But that is no reason to haul me away from a very important person in the middle of a conversation."

"Can we go home Jen?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

"Jethro," She shook her head and laughed, patting my cheek in a highly patronizing way, "You are so greedy. I am yours all evening, and now you want me all day too? You've got to learn to share." She grinned, kissed me and twirled out of my grasp, back to being the social butterfly that she is so suited being.

When I was finally allowed to drag her away, I bundled her into the car, drove as fast as I dared and hauled her inside my house, briefly wondering if I should wait until the bedroom or just take her in the hallway. She pulled out of my grasp as I kicked the front door shut and danced away from me, up the stairs. There goes the hallway plan, I thought as I all but ran up after her.

"Christ Jethro," She laughed as I burst through the bedroom door, "patience is one of the virtues."

"Hell Jen, I have alway preferred the vices." I replied, tugging her shirt out of her waistband, loving the way her eyes closed for a second as my fingers grazed her ribs.

"Me too." She replied, her small hand reaching into my pants, "What's your favorite?" She asked, her mouth millimeters from my ear.

"I'm a fan of all 7, but right now I would have to say greed."

"Good choice," She replied, pulling me down onto the bed with her, "Give me more, Jethro."

* * *

_Avaritia is greed in Latin, hence Avarice._

_V!_

_xox_


	3. Ira

Ira – Wrath

Wrath (or anger) may be described as inordinate and uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger. Anger is an emotional state that may range from minor irritation to intense rage. Anger can raise the heart rate, increase blood pressure, and increase the levels of noradrenalin and adrenaline.

The external expression of anger can be found in facial expressions, body language, physiological responses, and at times in public acts of aggression. Animals and humans for example make loud sounds, attempt to look physically larger, bare their teeth, and stare.

There was something about the way that he grabbed her by the arms when he was angry that made her want to do it over and over, whatever she had done to make him angry. She knew she wasn't meant to enjoy it when he was furious, but his blue eyes flashing dangerously, his voice low and his hands gripping around her arms made her heart beat faster. It was probably that she knew where most of their arguments ended up and that anger usually fueled his lust for her.

The reason for any argument was usually irrelevant, but she pushed anyway, pushed until he crossed that line that meant that he wasn't coming back from it easily, unless he hit something or released himself inside her. She goaded until his knuckles turned white around the glass he was holding and his jaw muscles rippled in double time, she goaded him until she wasn't sure which one was more furious.

Some days it took longer than others. Sometimes all she had to do was to look at him in a certain way and he would fly into a rage. Other times, she would push and push and he would remain calm, giving her that all knowing smile which he kept for her, the smile that would make her push ever harder, the smile that said he knew exactly what she was doing and that it wasn't going to work.

When he gave it, it made it all the provoking worth it; he would pull her roughly to him, silence her snappy retort with his mouth, forcing her mouth open. The fight that she put up would only be a front. She would try to push him away, but he would hold on, his fingers digging into her arms and she would pretend to give up, although she had given up long ago.

This particular time though, he had pushed her against a wall, his knee pushing her legs apart and forcing himself into all of her five senses, until she wasn't sure where he ended and she began, his anger rolling off him in waves. His hands pulled at her shirt, pulling it sharply out of her skirt, causing her breath to catch in her throat as he wrenched it open. His fingers caught the hem of her skirt and pulled it up, exposing her thighs to the cool air in the bedroom. Completely ignoring the bed, he hitched her up around his waist and lowered her onto him, breathing out as he began to move. This is why she loved making him angry, it made him hard so quickly, something about lust and anger which seemed to mingle together with them, neither of them knowing what was fueling them more.

The ending came all too soon, but neither of them cared, letting go together, knowing that it would all happen again as soon as they caught their breath, knowing that fast and angry love making never sated them.

"You do it on purpose, don't you?" He asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"What?" She asked, lowering her head to his shoulder, pulling deep breaths into her lungs.

"Make me angry." He replied, setting her back on her feet, holding her to him until her legs grew steady enough to hold her up.

"I can't help it," She lifted her dark eyes to him, "you respond so well."

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	4. Acedia

Acedia – Sloth

Sloth is defined as spiritual and/or actual apathy or laziness, putting off what God asks you to do, or not doing it or anything at all. Several religious views concerning the need for one to work to support society and further God's plan and work by doing so reflects that by not being active alone, you invite the desire to sin on its own. "For Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do."

There was a reason that sloth was one of the 7 deadly sins, she thought as she stretched her arms above her head, because she felt unbelievably guilty whenever she thought about the fact that she was meant to be at work, but instead she was in bed, with his legs tangled with hers and it was 2 in the afternoon. However, she didn't feel guilty enough to get out of bed and actually go to work.

She couldn't remember the last time she had played hooky from work, probably because she never had and it was exhilarating, if a little embarrassing, knowing that everyone at NCIS was no doubt placing bets about whether they were together or not. She felt him stir beside her and glanced down at his sleeping form. There was something about the way his skin looked against her sheets, like he was meant to be there, which made her reach out. She lazily traced the contours of the side of his face that was exposed, her fingers slipping to his shoulder and down his arm, resting in his curled hand. His fingers tightened slightly at her touch and he stirred again.

It hadn't taken much to persuade him to play hooky with her, just a little bit of bare skin and open promises and he was hers. They had fallen back into bed the second their respective phone calls were made and hadn't emerged yet, taking delight in exploring each other yet again, taking delight at being completely and utterly lazy.

She lowered her hand to his shoulder, her fingers following his shoulder blades down his back, lightly caressing her way down, loving the gasp that came from him even in his sleep. He breathed out her name, causing her to snatch her hand away guiltily. When he settled, she ran her hands through his hair, fingers yet again tracing his jaw, loving the way his muscles rippled under her skin.

He turned onto his back in his sleep and murmured her name again. She lazily traced patterns on his chest; half wishing that he would wake up, half hoping that he didn't, not wanting to stop. She trailed her fingers down further, smiling to herself as his stomach muscles automatically clenched. His hand moved with a speed she had forgotten and grabbed her fingers, stopping them moving, and his eyes cracked open.

"That tickles." His voice was hoarse from sleep and she leant down and kissed his chest.

"Oh good, you're awake." She said, grinned wickedly at him and straddled his chest. He groaned.

"You trying to kill me woman?" He asked.

"Stop being lazy, Jethro." She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. He grabbed her wrists and flipped her over, again his speed surprising her.

"Lazy?" He asked, sounding affronted. She nodded and flipped him back over, enjoying the look of surprise that crossed his face. She grinned at him again and lowered her head to his chest again.

"You just lie back and think of…Positano, you were being lazy then too if my memory serves me correctly."

"I'd been shot!" Came the indignant cry from above her head, she suppressed a chuckle and cocked her head at him.

"Whatever," She murmured and lowered her head again, "Now where was I?"

"God, I love being lazy." He breathed, the last coherent words that fell from his lips before her mouth closed around him and he forget how to speak.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	5. Invidia

Invidia – Envy

* * *

Like greed, envy is characterized by an insatiable desire; they differ, however, for two main reasons. First, greed is largely associated with material goods, whereas envy may apply more generally. Second, those who commit the sin of envy desire something that someone else has which they perceive themselves as lacking. Dante defined this as "love of one's own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs."

It can also derive from a sense of low self-esteem that results from an upward social comparison threatening a person's self image: another person has something that the envier considers to be important to have. If the other person is perceived to be similar to the envier, the aroused envy will be particularly intense, because it signals to the envier that it just as well could have been him or her who had the desired object.

_Please God no, _Jen resisted the urge to actually rub her eyes and continued to stare at the scene unfolding before her. His fingers around a slender arm; a delicate, well manicured hand on his face; red lips against his cheek; him smiling down at the harlot, all served to raise her blood pressure more than a few notches. She narrowed her eyes at the red head standing in front of Gibbs at the elevators, for some reason unable to tear her gaze away from the scene unfolding before her.

Glancing over to his team to make sure no one had noticed her frozen on the steps, she locked eyes with Ziva, silently pleading with whichever God was listening to make sure that she didn't understand what was going through her mind. Dragging her gaze away from Ziva's knowing eyes, she retreated to her office. Storming past Cynthia she slammed the door with a slam that would have put Gibbs to shame. The thought of him made her want to slam the door again. Sure, she had told him there was going to be no "off the job" but surely he knew that she didn't want him parading his latest conquest in front of her. She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh. Gibbs didn't parade, nor did he have conquests, he wasn't Tony. She paced her office, her hands making fists tight enough to leave her knuckles white, she wanted to punch something, and she was pretty sure she was going to punch the next person that walked through her door, guilty or not. She tried dragging a lungful of air in, but it did nothing to calm her. The rage, if she was honest with herself it was actually jealousy, was pumping around her body, causing her blood pressure to rise. She shut her eyes and rubbed her temples; she could feel a headache coming on.

"Cynthia, please get Agent Gibbs up here, ASAP." She barked down the intercom. Cynthia's reply was lost as she let go of the button and continued to pace. So caught up in her pacing, she didn't hear the open open.

"What Jen?" Gibbs voice pulled her from her focus and stopped her pacing. She lifted her green eyes to his blue and narrowed them, hoping to intimidate him, even though she knew it wouldn't work.

"Agent Gibbs, this is a place of work not a frat house, please kindly refrain from parading your latest conquest around."

"Conquest Jen?" He stared at her, an amused look seeping into his eyes, "Parading?"

"Yes, you were definitely parading down there." She snapped. He stared at her, and she could see him mind working. His eyes widened in delight and surprise as he obviously came to his conclusion as to why she was angry with him.

"You're jealous!" The pleasure in his voice made her want to strangle him.

"No I'm not!" She replied, trying her best to sound indignant, when he raised an eyebrow knowingly at her she sighed inwardly, on the outside she maintain the front. He chuckled and pulled her to him, briefly wrapping his arms around her.

"You have nothing to be worried about." He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips brushing against her neck. He turned to leave.

"You gonna tell me who she is?" She called after him. He stopped and looked around, a smug grin gracing his features, before turning and calling his one word answer over his shoulder.

"Nope."

* * *

_Comes after that episode, can't remember which one it is, early in season three, when Gibbs and an unnamed red head are by the elevators._

V!

xox

* * *


	6. Superbia

Superbia – Pride

In almost every list pride (or hubris or vanity) is considered the original and most serious of the seven deadly sins, and indeed the ultimate source from which the others arise. It is identified as a desire to be more important or attractive than others, failing to give compliments to others though they may be deserving of them, and excessive love of self.

Pride is an emotion which refers to a strong sense of self-respect, a refusal to be humiliated as well as joy in the accomplishments of oneself or a person, group, nation or object that one identifies with, or to think of one's self as being better than anyone else.

I do not have a superiority complex, I am not excessively proud, especially of myself, but something about her makes me so, I almost hate myself for it, but can't find a way to stop the swell of pride that courses through me whenever she looks at me.

I am proud of the way that she can command a room. All eyes glued to her as she floats around, talking to everyone, remembering everyone's name, their partners and children's names, making them think they are the only ones that matter. She leans her head to the side, giving the impression of total immersion in them, her green eyes big with empathy; a touch on the arm and she has them eating out of her hand.

I am proud of the way her Director mask slips back into place the second it's needed, pulling herself away from my arms and pacing her office, phone in hand, barking orders, smoothing out kinks with other agencies, hiding secrets from me that I don't need to know, it may fill me with anger but I am proud of the way she seems to effortlessly move from Jenny to Director.

I am proud of the way her eyes find mine across a room and I can feel others on me, wishing that her eyes were on them instead. I am proud of the time she found me and took my hand, drawing me onto the dance floor of the almost deserted bar and danced with me, her body almost melting into mine, proud because the look of jealousy that crossed the man in the corner's face made my heart swell and my hands pull her closer, challenging him with my eyes.

I am proud of the way adrenaline still pumps round her body when she is in the field, knowing that it was partly me that made her realize her love of field work, and proud of the way that it still turns her on and she comes to me, needing release like she always did, and of course I give it to her.

I'm proud of the way she laughs at me when I am being an idiot, her hand on my arm, squeezing lightly, telling me that it doesn't matter how much of an idiot I am, she is still there, right beside me.

I am proud of the way she stands up to me in an argument, standing just that little bit too close, her eyes flashing dangerously, voice trembling with anger. She has never been afraid of me, its what drew me to her in the first place, she was a worthy adversary, she still is. It amuses me that people still hide when we argue; don't they know it is only for show and that we both love firing each other up, raising each others blood pressure for no reason other than it excites us and fuels our desire for each other?

I am proud of the way I can make her come undone, how I can make her cry out my name, bite her bottom lip, beg for more. Although I am almost humiliated by the way she can make me beg. I love watching her come apart under me, the way her eyes widen and darken, her finger nails scraping lightly down my back or digging into my shoulder, the arch of her neck, makes me join her coming undone, makes me glad to be alive.

Most of all I am proud that she is mine and mine alone.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	7. Gula

Gula – Gluttony

Derived from the Latin _gluttire_, meaning to gulp down or swallow, gluttony is the over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink, or intoxicants. Depending on the culture, it can be seen as either a vice or a sign of status. The relative affluence of the society can affect this view both ways. A wealthy group might take pride in the security of having enough food to eat to show it off, but it could also result in a moral backlash when confronted with the reality of those less fortunate.

No doubt about it, he was definitely going to hell, because he shouldn't be staring and wishing that she would never stop, but as long as she kept eating those strawberries, her lips wrapping around the red fruit, then he didn't really care, he might as well sit back and enjoy the ride. Well not sit back, considering he was currently standing, slack jawed and probably drooling in the doorway of her office.

If he though about it, and right now coherent thoughts were not coming easily, it was a little unfair, because she knew exactly what she was doing, she knew that she was tempting him, goading him to make a move. _Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave, till heart and body and life are in its hold. _The poem about Lilith, the temptress of Adam, sprung to mind, and it was exactly what she was doing.

It would be so easy to over indulge. All he needed to do was lean over her desk and pull her too him. Sometimes he felt as if he had had enough, that he was too full for any more of her, like the sight of her was enough to sate his desire. But then looking at her, he knew that it wasn't enough, the mere sight of her, even eating strawberries, wasn't enough.

"Enjoying the view Jethro?" She asked, her voice laced with amusement as she noticed him staring. He lifted his eyes to hers and drawing on his outstanding command of language, he said nothing; he just stared at the fruit in her hand and the juice that was staining her lips.

He stalked round the desk and hauled her to her feet, secretly enjoying the small squeak of surprise that escaped her. He pulled her to him, crushing the air out of her lungs and his lips hovered over hers, her breath hot and sweet on his skin. He heard her breathe out his name in question and silenced her by kissing her, tasting the strawberry juice on her lips, gripping her arms and pulling her closer, wanting to taste every inch of her mouth. She pulled away and looked at him, eyes dark, heartbeat slightly elevated.

"I guess you were enjoying it." She said. He groaned as she stood on tiptoes and nibbled his earlobe. He lifted her up and sat her on her desk, pulling her legs round his waist. His fingers skimmed her neck and followed the collar of her blouse down; she tightened her grip around his waist. He pushed her skirt up her thighs.

"Didn't you get enough this morning?" She murmured against his lips.

"I never get enough." He replied, silencing her once again.

The buzz of her intercom system had them both jumping guiltily jumping apart.

"Yes?" She snapped, irritated about being interrupted when it was getting good.

"The Secretary of Defense is on the phone for you, Director." Cynthia sounded apologetic as if she knew what was happening behind the doors. Jen glanced at Gibbs and held two fingers up. He didn't notice as he was currently inhaling the scent of her hair, wondering if he could ever get bored of that scent.

"Two seconds Jethro, ok?" She pushed on his shoulders gently and reached for the phone.

He pulled her into a brief yet lustful kiss and stalked out of her office.

"Where are you going?" She called after him.

"The third circle of Hell." He replied.

* * *

_Sinners guilty if Gluttony are sent to the third circle of Hell where they are forced to stand in freezing rain, black snow and hail guarded by Cerberus (the three headed dog). _

_The poem is by Rossetti, Collective Works 216._

_V!_

_xox_


	8. Luxuria

_Hopefully this doesn't disappoint! _

* * *

Luxuria – Lust

Lust is any intense desire or craving for self gratification and excitement. Lust (or lechery) is usually thought of as involving obsessive or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature. Unfulfilled lusts sometimes lead to sexual or sociological compulsions. In Purgatory, the penitent walks within flames to purge himself of lustful/sexual thoughts and feelings.

Lust is furtive, headlong, always sizing up opportunities. It is a trail of clothing in the hallway, the trashy cousin of love.

Jen had forgotten that anger made him hot, but when she had seen the first flash of desire in his eyes the second she argued back this morning she knew how the day was going to end; exactly as it was right now. She was vaguely aware that she made the most undignified squeak as he grabbed her arms and her back hit the wall. She briefly thought that winding him up all day had, in hindsight, not been one of her smarter ideas, but it was probably going to be one of her most fun ideas, if his lips of hers had anything to do with it.

When his fingers found their way under her blouse, and curled into the hair at the back of her neck, she held her breath. When the hand in her hair pulled gently, so that his mouth could nip at her neck, she moaned. She decided that goading and flirting constantly with him all day was probably just about the best idea she'd had for a long time.

Jethro's hand moved from under blouse, grazing down her ribs to her hip, pulling her close. The hand slid further down, pulling, urging her to wrap her thigh around his hip, pressing them even more tightly together. She could honestly say that she had never felt such desire and uncontrollable lust with anyone else. It coursed round her body, clouding her vision, and the feel of his hands on her skin was completely intoxicating.

She was vaguely aware that she should be doing something, anything other than clinging desperately to his arms, and reality, but she couldn't seem to coordinate her brain long enough to do something about it. There was something ridiculously arousing about having an employee push you roughly against a wall and attempt to cloud your judgment and practically crawl inside you, even if that employee was Jethro, and even though this is what they did best, and no matter how many times they had been here.

When he tugged on her blouse, it took a couple of seconds before she could coordinate her thought processes long enough to lift her arms to help. At the sight of him throwing the garment away, something clicked in her brain, and she reached for him, her movements just little frantic. One hand pushed at the NCIS jacket, whilst the other grabbed his pants and pulled their hips more tightly together.

He grinned wickedly as she fumbled with his zip and he ran a hand down her arm, his fingers entwining with hers, lifting her hand and pining it to the wall above her head, she momentarily lost her focus, but the flash of satisfaction that rushed through her at the hitch in his breath as she dragged her free hand down his stomach, nails grazing lightly, set her back on track and was better than anything she'd ever felt. The rush of arousal and lust that swamped her when he returned the favor and stroked her thigh with a sure, steady hand was even better though, and she willing gave herself over to sin. She didn't think she'd ever been as aroused by the promise of sex as she was then.

The hand on her thigh pushed her skirt up around her waist. He let go of her hand and pulled his shirt over is head, hating the loss of contact, however brief, he pulled her back to him, pressing her to his chest with one hand, freeing her of her panties with the other. He lifted her round his waist, reveling in the sounds of desire that were escaping her throat.

How he had managed to lift her and push down his pants she had no idea, but the thought left her head as he entered her and her hands clutched at his shoulders. He paused briefly, basking in the feeling of her wrapped around him, before he lifted her slightly and drew his hips back. Their rhythm became faster as they moved in harmony and she let herself trust him not to let her fall.

It was fast and frantic and she loved every single second of it. The reality was, for once, better than the fantasy she had been building in her head all day. She felt him falter and slow, waiting for her to catch up. She breathed his name, letting him know that she was right behind him and they both fell over the edge, breathing each others name in release.

His lowered his head to her shoulder, dragging in deep breaths and eventually he moved, stepping away from the wall and lifting her down. He grinned down at her bruised lips and dark eyes and brushed her hair from her face.  
"Not that I don't love frantic lust fueled sex against a wall…but next time you want something Jen, just ask, ok?"

* * *

_Seven Deadly Sins is now complete. _

_V!_

_xox_


End file.
